We found each other lonely and afraid
Not too long after, a bond was made

We soon realized we were significant to each other

And so significant she became, this one was not the same...
as the ones that came before, this one knew more

Yet she stayed around, she sought to traverse the trembling ground...
that was my self-esteem and troubled mind

And I did the same for her too, together we grew
And before we knew, our love felt most pure and true

Yet even though I rose high, my love didn't always erase her wish to die

Days blossomed and shined
Weeks lived and died

At our best we planted beautiful memories...
at our worst we hung dead together from trees

But mostly, we loved each other seemingly indefinitely
Eventually, our corpse filled days bled into our loving ways

My spark for her heart faded away,
just like everything else these days

She was no longer something to adore
I could no longer fight to see her soar

I could no longer keep her in the sky
Every moment with her felt like a lie

As even though we still laughed, we both smelled something had begun to die
We knew it wasn't the same anymore
We knew it didn't feel like before

Yet she refused to part ways

Until I said that's how it has to be
It was the best for her and me

And so part we did for some time, hoping it will clean the grime

Alas, I felt better on my own, my love did not regrow

We met some time later, I made my statement of abatement
She was saddened but she already had her eye on a potential replacement

And so I carry on, sometimes recalling her smile, wishing it will seem vile

But this is not how I feel
Our love felt pure and real, and it was

Until it started to rot, then it was not.

Dylan Jones May 22

If I could act on my revenge now, would I?
Some kill, some steal, some break your heart
And you thought I would let it go
Let you off
Broken hearts, break bones, and break up fast
And I don't wanna let go
So in my grave, I'll rot
I've dug two graves for us, my dear
Can't pretend I was perfect when you in fear
Oh man, what a world of things I hear
If I could act on my revenge now, would I?
Some kill, some steal, some break your heart
And you thought that I would let go
Let you off
Broken hearts, break bones, and break up fast
And I don't wanna let go
So in my grave, I'll rot

Words float in lost eyes,
broken veins are calling me.

~~ A short poem about a long battle. ~~
Nylee Apr 16

The mind is surrounded by noise  
        craving for silence
But when the mind finally reaches quietness
        the feeling is scary and uneasy
And I ask for sounds of thoughts
        so my mind doesn't start to rot

rot

and so like maggots my life has become
this dead rotting
ohh noo ... please not death
i feel him coming near , he reaches out
i feel his cold breath ... i gasp
i reach out !
.............
to nothing
to darkness
to lost dizzy spaces
this low deep dark ..place
this dead ....this death ... of something
in me .....
when did you stray >?
or start to decay ?
when did you lose the very thing
you knew !!
yes you
knew better .... yet with
simple smiles and wiles
you gave in
you bowed down ... to another master
to someone else
you gave your blood for him to drink
when he didn't even care to think
- the thoughts
you lay
you stay up
in awakening dreams
reliving your regret
stuck .....
death.

for no one

Touch the sky with me
and we can fly, fly, fly
away from these places,
wrong faces, all the traces
of the spaces we created
between our lonely hearts
and forgotten minds;
the parts of us that shouldn't exist
crying in their cavernous
pinholes, echoing
and rupturing in feeling
through the waves of something
more, something undeniable
and true. The pinprick
in which my emotions
are contained
is gargling with a blood
that pours black yet,
as it trickles through
me, I can feel it restoring beauty
to the yellowed valleys of my skin.

~~ Blood will heal me. ~~
port Feb 14

i am
angry.

i am
sick.

i am angry, and i am sick, and i am fucking tired.

my body is rotting,
my hands shake.
but,
i am Achilles.
best of the Greeks,
angry and righteous and terrible.
i brought the pestilence to your home- it will kill your sheep.
it will kill your flock, your herd, your crowd, your audience, mister.
after it’s killed everyone else, it will come for you.

it will taste like ginger.
like tumeric.
like sulfur burning your lungs.

there will be nothing to shield you,
no trust fund,
no banks,
no lying sons and daughters who feed only on your game.

the disease will have killed them,
it will be because of me.
the sun is mad, it’s betrayed you.
because of me.

when you look at your empire for the last time,
you will see me,
burning and rotting and

smiling.

this piece is political.
N H Nabass Feb 6

Even the most selfless creatures
retreat from their humble existence
with sordid intentions of self maintenance.

But this beast of a man needs not a drug
nor a meal, high on altruism and a stomach filled with giving back. What when he has had

nothing taken to return, withering away and
running out of resilience? He will rot in the belly of the void he had birthed, devoured by

vultures he had once liberated from a life far worse than now-- he will be consumed by the concerns of the collective.

Too much of anything is too much. /

evening ramblings.
Dawn Treader Jan 6

Naked I came, naked I’ll leave
Then the worms will dine on me
This circle of life I cannot flee
A painless death is my only plea

There is beauty in bloom, there is beauty in rot
But in the end I’ll care not
Fingers, toes, eyes, and bone
I shall return to earth
Life is a loan

Maybe I'll be a garden.
Britney Lyn Dec 2016

Growing up as a child I only saw the best in everything and everyone around me.
I saw the world in colors and smiles, laughter and love.
I never thought that when I hit middle school the darkness would consume me and swallow me up.
Depression.
It used to be a word I thought I’d never understand.
A word that people around me joked about,
A symptom that isn’t even real.
You see, depression is this constant feeling of dread, failure, sadness…
Like you’re stuck in a pitch black pit of despair that feels as simple as a coffin.
Where you're not only cut off from the world but you’re cut off from yourself.
A ghost inside a body that just wants to lay there and rot.
I used to be scared I could catch depression as a child,
As if someone could sneeze on me and I would immediately become infected.
All of my happiness slowly being devoured.  
Depression is a battle and sometimes we’re out numbered.
Sometimes the fight is fixed.

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